This low-budget six-part series from the people who brought the
world fine features such as Colt 45, Lone Star and Schlitz may not
live up to its Blue Ribbon billing, but it definitely deserves an
While all six installments measure the same 12 ounces, the pace of the
first two is rather slow, leaving somewhat of a bad taste in the
mouth and a unsettled feeling in the bowels. The bland, washed-out appearance
of the featured performers does little to boost the status of this
period piece that was theoretically selected America's best in 1893.
Some advertisements portray Pabst Blue Ribbon as a non-stop
rollercoaster ride, while in reality it sputters until the third or fourth
offering. At this point a sense of well-being overtakes the disturbing
feelings aroused by the early installments, and the desire to devour
the remains of the series is all but overwhelming.
However, it is sensible to avoid this seemingly undeniable urge and
indulge in the final selections at a prudent pace. Otherwise, one could
find the final outcome exceedingly unpleasant.
Although this critic warmed to the series after a few offerings, I was
disgusted by the shameless promotion put forth by the Pabst
Brewing Co. These gentlemen plastered their product's appellation on
everything from belt buckles to golf balls. They even went so far as
to advertise on a beer stein. How passé.
The makers' funds could have been better expended investing in a
few established names to accompany the other players involved.
Tostitos Restaurant Style Tortilla Chips and perhaps Salsa Con Queso
come to mind.
In the end, Pabst Blue Ribbon packs enough punch to quench the
audiences thirst for thrills, but the next morning it leaves you like a
Malaysian whore - $5 poorer and filled with a subtle sensation of